


Longshot

by LoveChilde



Series: Cravings [6]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Episode Tag, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, I swear there are more stories in this series, M/M, Nightmares, Slash, keeping secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 23:58:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7129946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveChilde/pseuds/LoveChilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Episode tag to 5X21, Exit Wounds. What happens in Alaska may not stay in Alaska, but is Hotch ready? Our darling men get closer, and then...do not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Longshot

**Author's Note:**

> I am so, so sorry this took so long, guys. I apologize, figuring out the ending of this one took literally months, and in the end, the ending is...complicated. I hope you enjoy anyway.
> 
> None of them are mine, as usual. My gratitude to my steadfast beta and sounding board, Ladywolf9, for hand holding, gentle shoving towards a keyboard, and brainstorming.

"Dibs." Garcia grabbed Morgan's hand in a surprisingly fast move, and the others exchanged amused looks. Morgan shrugged and nodded; Reid just shrugged, calmly accepting Morgan's refusal to room with him, and JJ caught Prentiss' eyes.

"Roomies?"

"Sure." Prentiss nodded, smiling slightly. That left the other three men to split two rooms between them. Rossi shook his head.

"I'm too old to share a room. You two share, I'll take the smallest room- but I'll take it alone."

"You sure?" Hotch very carefully didn't look at Reid.

"So sure. I'm playing the seniority card, sorry. Hopefully we won't stay more than a night or two." Rossi nodded firmly, catching Hotch's eyes and holding them for a moment. Hotch dropped his gaze first.

"Ok then." He didn't ask whether Reid was ok with it; they had no real choice, and even if Reid had a problem, he wouldn't express it in front of the others, where he'd be forced to explain just why he had one. Things seemed to be ok between them now, months after the incident, months after Haley's murder had washed away any remaining awkwardness under the weight of tragedy. Reid had been wary and nervous around Hotch at first, but that had faded as his bruises had, and the wariness after Haley's death had been pretty much universal, due to uncertainty about Hotch's emotional state, not specific fear. Yes, they were ok now, but were they back on an even enough keel to share a room? "Let's settle down, and regroup in the morning." They all nodded, grabbed their bags and headed up the stairs. Hotch let the others go ahead and grabbed Rossi before he started the ascent. "A word, Dave?"

He dragged his friend aside, away from prying ears, and Rossi pre-empted him, talking first. "Don't give me that look, Aaron. I really don’t want to share a room." 

"And I'm not in the mood to be manipulated, Dave. Whatever game you're playing, you'd better stop."

"I'm not playing games; I just want a quiet night's sleep. Also, if I can get you and Reid to stop dancing around each other like twitchy cats, I'll sleep easier in the long run. The others will start to notice eventually, you know." Rossi replied calmly. "I know it's not an ideal time, but the opportunity presented itself, it seems a shame to let it go to waste."

"We're not 'dancing', and there's nothing to notice." Hotch countered, feeling irritation rising. "We're in the middle of a case; we can't let your impression of our so-called 'twitchiness' interfere with the job. All you'll get is both of us sleep-deprived and irritable tomorrow."

"Ah, so sharing a room with him will make you uncomfortable?" Rossi smiled slightly, vindicated. "Talk to the kid, Aaron. At least try. One night, it can't hurt. If it's that bad, I'll switch with you tomorrow night, alright?"

"There won't be any need to switch." Besides, Hotch didn't want Reid to feel rejected, especially if the younger man still had feelings for him. Those hadn’t been mentioned since the incident, and Hotch was pretty sure Reid had let them go- or at least, he hoped he had. Hotch himself hadn't thought about his own feelings on the subject in a while, and now that he did…well, he stopped very quickly, feeling a headache bloom at the base of his skull as the muscles in his neck and shoulders tightened in reaction. "But your motives beyond personal comfort are out of line, Dave. I just wanted that to be clear."

"I'm clear. Now go to sleep, alright?" 

"Going, going." Hotch nodded irritably. He _was_ pretty wiped.

***

Reid stood in the doorway and looked into the room they'd been assigned, bag in hand, until he heard Hotch coming up the stairs behind him. "On the good news side, there are two blankets." He said, trying for neutral and landing on a little nervous, despite his effort. The two agents looked into the tiny room.

"I was planning on taking the floor." Hotch frowned.

"There doesn't seem to be floor-space to fit you in." Pointing out the obvious wasn't Reid's usual MO, but in this instance he thought they should both be on the same page. The bed was nice and large, but the room around it was fairly small, leaving them barely enough room to put down their bags, never mind a full-sized person. It looked like the door to the en-suite bathroom opened into the bathroom, which was lucky. "I don't mind sharing." He said quickly, because it would probably be odd and awkward, but he was tired and not in the mood for extensive debate on the subject. "If you don't."

Hotch hesitated, then let his shoulders slump in resignation. "It's not the kind of thing that needs to go in a case report. We might as well, tomorrow looks like it'll be even longer than today was."

"Yeah." Reid nodded. "You go ahead." He indicated the bathroom. Letting Hotch go first would allow him to choose his preferred side of the bed- Reid assumed he had one, having shared a bed for years. For himself, Reid didn't much care- when he slept, it was usually diagonally across the bed. He hadn't stayed overnight or had a partner stay at his place in years, so choosing a side was rarely an issue. 

Also, it would allow Reid to prepare himself for the night. It wasn't that he was afraid of Hotch, Reid thought as the older man disappeared and closed the door behind him without a word. He wasn't afraid, hadn't been even all those months ago when Hotch had lost control. He'd worried that their work relationship would be damaged, and it had taken effort on both their parts to return to normal after that. He'd been afraid _for_ Hotch, back then and later, after Foyet had killed Haley and Hotch had killed Foyet- afraid that the trauma would change the man he so admired and respected- and yes, was attracted to. He was still attracted to him, despite, maybe because of everything, but Hotch was recently widowed in maybe the worst possible way, and if there was ever a time to repress his attraction, now was probably it. There was a distance between them, still- they weren't paired up as often, even after Reid was cleared for field work, and the old closeness and ease between them never recovered. Sharing a bed was going to be strange, at the very least.

He was still thinking it over when Hotch came back, hair damp and dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants for bed. Very carefully not staring- he'd seen Hotch dressed like this before, after all- Reid grabbed his things and squeezed past to get to the bathroom as well. He changed quickly, deciding against a shower- morning would be better for that, after he'd gotten past the awkwardness. Face washed and teeth brushed, in a long sleeved shirt and sweats as well, he left the bathroom.

Hotch looked to be already asleep, but Reid was willing to bet cash that he wasn't. He slipped into his side of the bed, pulled the covers over himself, and resolutely closed his eyes. "Night, Hotch."

"Good night, Reid." Yeah, definitely awake, and as Reid had been an idiot and made him prove it, they were now both awake and aware, a little light coming in from where Reid had left the light on in the bathroom and the door half-open, and his mind was going a mile a minute, even with his eyes firmly closed.

Sharing a bed was strange; there was a reason he didn't do it very often. It wasn't his own bed, which he missed even after years of travel and cheap FBI-funded motels, and beyond that, in the dark and quiet, hearing another person breathe was enough to make him tense. The fact that this was Hotch, and Reid could feel his weight on the bed, noticed his smell, which Reid didn't normally register at all, was a little overwhelming, too close for professional comfort. He kept his breathing even and recited equations in his head, hoping at least for some sleep and no nightmares. He was wary of moving, of disturbing the fragile-feeling balance between them, of drawing attention to himself. He wasn't afraid, but- wary. Reluctant. Exhausted. Against expectations, he dozed off eventually.

Reid woke up hours later, it felt like, feeling oddly warm and- held down? A moment of panic cleared his mind and tensed his muscles, and he remembered where he was just in time not to shake off the apparent attacker- where, and with whom. Alaska, large bed, small room, case- and Hotch. Hotch, on whom Reid had had a crush for years. Who was, apparently, a cuddler. That was unexpected, nothing in Hotch's profile suggested it (not that Reid had profiled him, of course), but it wasn't unpleasant. Their legs were tangled together, one of Hotch's arms thrown across Reid's chest, holding him close. 

He looked peaceful in the dim light, even happy, and Reid carefully directed his thoughts away from the last person he'd likely shared a bed with. He just hoped Hotch wouldn't be too freaked out in the morning- they had a job to do, after all, and needed to be alert. He didn't try to move; being held was nice. He felt safe and warm and if that warmth wasn't aimed at him, but at some pleasant dream Hotch was having, well…He'd take misdirected affection, guilty as it made him. He took a moment to bask in it before drifting back to sleep. 

***  
Noise in the hall woke Hotch up not long after- running feet, hurried, urgent voices- he was up and moving before his brain caught up with where he was, rolling towards the door- and over something bony and warm that protested being crushed, and froze him mid-motion, which led to them both in a tangle of limbs. As real life took over his sleep-fogged mind, the dream he’d had became clearer- he’d been holding someone, his mind saying Haley even as his body knew it wasn’t, and he knew he’d slept better than he had in months. But it hadn’t been Haley, and he wondered how aware of it Reid had been, and- it didn’t matter. He had just enough time to right himself and get a respectable distance between himself and Reid before Morgan open the door and poked his head in without knocking.

“There’s been another attack, just outside. Doctor says there’s nothing to be done for him. Come on!”

Reid sat up and reached for his glasses. It was still dark outside. They exchanged a silent look, and in that look acknowledged that they both knew what had happened, and agreed that if they talked about it at all it would be much, much later. Then they were both on the move, scrambling to dress, blood rushing and all distracting thoughts pushed aside in favor of the job at hand. Only the lingering warmth of their arms around each other reminded them of the unaware closeness earlier.

Things moved fast after that; the case took up their full attention and the day was indeed hard and long. Emotions were suppressed by force of habit, and maps, motivations and signatures took over. Despite the early wake-up, they worked full-tilt until well after dark. It was an emotionally charged and draining day- arresting their landlady’s son did not make the atmosphere at the Inn any easier, and by the end of the night they seemed no closer to finding their unsub, if it wasn’t Josh after all. At a certain point it became clear that they were losing focus due to fatigue, and there'd be nothing more to do that day.

"Let's get some sleep." Hotch said, taking in his team scattered around the room in various poses of concentration or exhaustion. "We'll have a fresh look at things in the morning. Our most likely next victim is in protective custody, nothing further we can do tonight."

They broke for the night and this time it was Rossi who grabbed Hotch before they started up. "You okay? And it's 'you', plural, if you're wondering."

"We're ok." Hotch nodded shortly. "Barely had long enough to sleep anyway, never mind do anything else. There's a case, you know." 

"I know. Fine, then have a good night."

"Night Dave." Hotch was glad Rossi didn't offer to switch rooms, because then the 'no choice' excuse would be off the table. In this, it was possibly better not to have a choice. He suppressed a sigh and followed the others upstairs. By the time he reached the room the bathroom door was closed, and he could hear the shower running. He sat on the bed, feeling heavy and exhausted, and hoped Reid wouldn't be too long. Alone, he had far too much time to think.

The bathroom door opened five minutes later, releasing a cloud of steam and Reid, again in sweats and toweling his hair. "All yours." He told Hotch with a slight smile. Hotch nodded and made a beeline for the shower, firmly keeping his mind blank, not allowing himself to think about Reid in the shower just minutes earlier, of bare, soap-slicked skin, of- damnit. Maybe he should've traded rooms, after all. He wasted no time in cleaning up, washing away as much of the stress of the day as he could. He didn't want to deal with the stress of the upcoming night with the day still on his mind. He still refused to allow himself to think about anything, especially what lay beyond the door.

Coming out of the bathroom, however, he had to think about it, as Reid was right there, sitting in bed, apparently absorbed in a book. Hotch knew that to be a polite pretense, however- Reid wasn't turning pages at all, so he was clearly waiting for Hotch to come out. He looked up from the book, his face neutral. "Hey."

"Hey." Hotch got into bed, pretending as best he could that it was totally normal to be getting into bed with his male subordinate, the one with the nice ass (and nice other things, too.) Nothing unusual there, was there? He lay down and resolved to stay awake as long as he could; he refused to force himself on Reid as he had the previous night, he had to control himself, even his unconscious mind. He didn't know if he could, to be honest, but maybe if they talked he'd relax. "Why did Morgan refuse to share with you?" Not the most tactful question, but he'd wondered. Reid put down the book and looked at him, a little puzzled it seemed.

"Morgan doesn't like to share with guys in general." He shrugged, "He knew we'd be grouped together and neither you nor Rossi were likely to change that, so he pre-empted the decision and allowed Garcia to grab him. She's safe." With a very small smile he added, "And he took the floor last night. Tonight as well, I'm guessing. And he hates leaving a light on." As on the previous night, the light had been left on in the bathroom, and the door a little open.

"Oh." Hotch looked at the door and his lips quirked up slightly. "I'm so used to it I didn't even think."

"Likewise." Reid nodded, but Hotch didn't believe him. Reid was normally too self-conscious not to have thought about it. "It doesn't matter anyway- I got the better end of the deal." Obviously a verbal slip, if the sudden mortified look and darkening of his cheeks was any indication. "That came out  
wrong. I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's okay." Hotch's hand was already moving to touch him in reassurance, but he stopped it mid-motion. In daytime, under normal circumstances (or after discipline, which he refused to even think about), it was acceptable. Here, sharing a bed, with the normal defenses stripped away, it was too much of a risk. "Don't worry about it, okay? Let's just sleep, it's been too long of a day to lose sleep over this."

"Yeah." Reid looked grateful, but still unsure. He put the book away and took his glasses off. "Good night."

"Good night." They both lay on their backs, in silence, and Hotch fought to stay awake, anxiety struggling against fatigue, trying to unwind and failing. Next to him, Reid didn't seem to have any better luck. Time trickled by, and Hotch kept pulling himself back from the edge of sleep.

"Hotch?" Reid's voice startled him in the dark.

"Yeah?" No point in pretending he wasn't awake.

"We both need to sleep." Reid turned over on his side, sounding matter-of-fact, not at all hesitant. "We can't sleep if we're both as jumpy as we are now. Just…Let's sleep. You told me earlier not to worry about it." His eyes were closed, or hidden by his hair, and Hotch couldn't read his expression in the dim light. "You don't worry about it either. It's okay, really."

It was as close to discussing the previous night as they were likely to get, and Hotch felt renewed tension curl in his neck and shoulders. "It's not actually okay, Reid."

"It is." Reid pushed himself up on one elbow, stressing the words slowly. "It's not your fault, it's not wrong, and I don't mind it, okay? It was…kind of nice. Restful." The semi-darkness was kind to them both, allowing things to be said that couldn't be said in daytime. "Really, I haven't slept that well in months."

Hotch was silent for a very long time, wondering where this was going. Did he want it to go anywhere? Finally, he decided he owed Reid the same honesty he'd been given. "I haven't either."

He could hear Reid's smile when he spoke. "Then let's take advantage of it. We're likely to only have tonight, unless the case gets even more complicated tomorrow."

"Which I really hope it doesn't." Hotch decided that if he couldn't beat his unconscious urges, he might as well go with them and get a solid night's sleep. "It's complicated enough as it is."

"Yeah. Okay, I'm really going to sleep now." And there was silence, after that. Hotch closed his eyes and started counting in his head. He lost count around 467, still wide awake , listening to Reid breathing and thinking about the fact that it wasn't at all strange, really, to share a bed again. It felt vastly different than it had felt with Haley, despite his unconscious mind's confusion, but still, somehow, comparing the two experiences seemed natural, and similarities did exist. The fact that it felt so right scared him on several levels, and given such disturbing thoughts it was easier to turn his mind away from them and towards sleep.

He didn't sleep very deeply- he rarely did, these days, and even if he had, he thought he'd have woken up when Reid kicked him. The younger man was restless, tangled with his blanket with his eyes clenched tightly, tension clear even in sleep. He was mumbling, though not anything that Hotch could make out clearly; that it was a nightmare was fairly obvious. On this occasion Hotch decided touching would be acceptable, and shook Reid's shoulder carefully. "Reid, wake up. It's just a dream, ok? Wake up and it'll be over."

Reid jerked away violently and his eyes snapped open, blinking owlishly. His breath stuttered and hitched and he drew away from Hotch, curling into himself. Hotch kept his distance, let him come back to himself slowly until his body relaxed and his eyes cleared.

"Okay? With me now?"

"Yeah." Almost silent, and then again, louder, "Yeah." More rapid blinking. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Not really." Hotch shrugged it off. "Not from a very deep sleep, anyway. Bad dream?" Reid gave him a flat, slightly unfocused look in response, and Hotch huffed a rueful chuckle. "Sorry. Bad dream, then. Wanna talk about it?"

"God, no." He sounded very sure of that. "It's just a dream, I'm ok." Sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as Hotch. With a sigh, he added "Sorry about this."

"Nothing to be sorry about, it happens." It happened to all of them, and he should've known that a case involving abandonment issues might push Reid's buttons. "Think you can go back to sleep? We have a few hours yet."

"I'll try." Reid's expression, what Hotch could see of it in the dim light, said he was doubtful about his chances of success. "You go back to sleep, anyway. I'll be alright."

"Fine." Nodding, Hotch turned over and away, but couldn't sleep. "I can feel you staring at my back." He said after a while.

"I'm not staring." Reid didn't sound defensive. "Can't really see it clearly anyway. But there, my eyes are closed. Does that help?"

It didn't, but Hotch didn't say any more. He carefully reached a foot across the gap between them until his bare toes touched Reid's leg; it could've been written off as accidental, of course, and he thought a touch, even a subtle one, might provide comfort they both needed. He felt Reid twitch, but then muscles relaxed into the contact and he released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. A tentative hand brushed against his arm, making him reach back and their hands touched, squeezed once, then relaxed. With only those two points touching, Hotch heard Reid's breathing settle into the steady rhythms of sleep, and let himself do the same.

When the alarm went off a few hours later, Hotch opened his eyes and found himself nose to nose with Reid, pressed full length against him with their legs twined together and their arms around each other. He closed his eyes again with a groan. "Shoulda traded with Dave." His eyes opened again to see a quick flash of hurt in Reid's eyes, quickly suppressed, and quickly amended. "There isn't a chance in hell this would happen with him. It's not right, Reid. We can't do this."

"Doesn't feel all that wrong to me." He couldn't read any emotion in Reid's voice, which was telling in itself. "It helped me sleep. You too, I'm guessing." He didn't make any more effort to disentangle them, and Hotch found he was equally reluctant to move.

"It did help." He admitted. And it felt warm and pleasant and better than he'd felt in months, which he could barely admit to himself, and definitely not to Reid. "But we can't get used to it. It's not-" Reid shook his head, stopping him.

"It may not be, but we have a case. Let's concentrate on that and talk about this-" he gestured with one hand, freeing his hold on Hotch a little and leaving him feeling oddly bereft, "all this, later. When we're done. I'm not going to let it distract me- are you?"

"No." But Hotch knew he was less confident than he sounded. He would certainly try not to be distracted…Reid nodded once.

"Good."

"Good."

They both lay there in silence until footsteps in the hall prompted Hotch to pull away a little, slowly.  
"We have to move before Morgan pokes his head in the door without knocking again." Reid pointed out, and with a combined effort they separated and set about putting some distance between their professional selves and the night's events. By the time they came downstairs the memory had been filed away as best they both could. Minutes later they discovered the mutilated body of the Inn owner on their doorstep, and everything else was consumed by the renewed search for the unsub.

***

The day was a hectic race against time, to pinpoint who their unsub was and then to reach him before the locals did, struggling against his abusive father and overwhelmed mother. Close calls were often part of the job, but this one was a much too close for comfort, and as case resolutions went Reid thought they'd failed more than succeeded. A disturbed young man would be absorbed into the system, removed from everything and everyone he knew, and his chances of rehabilitation were slim; the town, too, would reel with the aftermath for a long time to come. Reid hated cases where the unsub was an adolescent, aware of how close he had been to becoming someone just like that, that only a measure of self-control and maturity (and university, if he was honest with himself) had stood between him and being on the other side of a police-chase. Every young man so alienated from human norms to resort to murder was a failure and a loss for society, as he saw it. At least, he thought with some cynicism, they hadn't killed him this time.

Hotch was even tenser now than he had been before, which made sense; abusive parents always got to him, and Reid kept sneaking glances as him, gauging his mood. They were all relieved to head back to Anchorage, where the Bureau jet would be waiting for them, but he noticed no real relaxation in the set of Hotch's shoulders. This case would stay with all of them for a while, Reid knew, and braced himself for the delayed impact when they got home.

Delayed, in more ways than one, it turned out when they reached Anchorage and discovered their jet wasn't there. JJ reported that weather conditions had kept it on the ground, and it would only arrive to pick them up the next day. Not only that, but the FBI-sponsored motel they were sent to was almost full due to some conference.

"Doubling again?" Morgan groaned at the reception desk, and JJ shrugged, nodding.

"Sorry. It's all they have, and we can't switch hotels without advance warning. At least these rooms have twin double beds, though."

"They'd better have, if we're sharing." Rossi groused, scowling in Morgan's direction. As luck would have it, JJ had managed to wrangle a three bed room for the ladies, and two twin rooms for the men. "Unless you two wanna change?" He gave a Hotch a questioning look, and the team leader shook his head, his face impassive. Reid felt the tension coming off him in waves.

"We're fine as-is. I guess we're all free to do whatever until tomorrow morning." It wasn't even lunchtime yet. Reid was sure they'd all find things to do with the free time, unused as they were to it. They all needed to unwind after the case. Looking at Hotch, he suspected that a day off wouldn't help him unwind much. Still, he wasn't the man's guardian, and when Morgan and Garcia suggested checking out the mall and maybe a movie, he went along with them and left Rossi to handle Hotch. 

In fact, they didn't see each other again until dinner that evening, which the team shared at the motel's restaurant. Hotch still seemed distracted, tense and even quieter than he usually was during team dinners, and Reid, after a day of being reasonably sociable, just wanted some peace and quiet. They both opted out of the after-dinner drink and hanging out in the lounge, Hotch pleading fatigue, Reid that he hated bars and needed to write up his case report anyway. It wasn't unusual for either of them, and while Morgan teased a little about Reid being too young to be up so late anyway, the rest of the team didn't try to stop them from heading up to the room. The truth was that everyone was tired and just wanted to go home, and Reid didn't think they'd stay down very long, either.

The room wasn't large, but the gap between the two beds, no more than three feet objectively, seemed huge subjectively. The décor was cheap and generic, not at all cozy as the Inn had been, but familiar, similar to countless motels they'd stayed at before. Again Reid let Hotch have the bathroom first, while he sat and worried and went over his case notes. It was a tragic waste, kids like Owen- socially isolated, with an abusive home environment, surrounded by violence and without any way of dealing with emotions, some would say he'd had no choice but to kill, eventually. Reid believed there was always a choice, always the chance to change. Abused children could become normative adults, and a rough childhood wasn't a one-way ticket to a criminal adult life. The boy was a sociopath, at best, and not every kid from a bad home shared the homicidal urges or had the wherewithal to act on them. Reid glanced at the bathroom door and wondered just what had happened to Hotch as a child. They weren't supposed to profile each other, but sometimes it just couldn't be helped. He was still staring at the door when it opened and Hotch came out and gave him an odd look.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, fine." He replied quickly. "Just…want to be home already. It's not the sleeping arrangements." He forced a quick smile, feeling his face heat up slightly, "But it feels like we're still on the case, and it was a pretty bad one." Trailing off, Reid looked away. They rarely discussed this kind of thing. Reactions to cases, dealing with the aftermath, were mostly private things and best dealt with in private. Still, between him and Hotch they'd both seen the other pretty much at their worst, and there were fewer secrets, less of a need for privacy. "I won't feel like it's behind me until we're home and the reports and filed and signed." 

"Yeah, me either." Hotch nodded. Even in sleepwear, he still looked tense and tired, but Reid's stomach knotted at the sight of him with his hair rumpled from the shower. He pushed down hard on the unwelcome emotions, chiding himself internally for thinking like an adolescent, and grabbed his own bag. "I'm making tea." Hotch said quietly as Reid headed to the bathroom. "want some?"

"Uh, sure." Reid wasn't much of a tea person, but it was late for coffee and it was nice of Hotch to offer. "Thanks. I'll be out before it's cold."

His tea wasn't cold when he came back, but it was definitely lukewarm. He'd lingered under the hot water, trying to wash away the case, the chill, the miasma of suspicion in the small town, and the oppressive fear in Owen’s house, the memory of his cowed, terrified mother. He always felt bad for the mothers. Finally he forced himself to finish, dress and head back out to the room. Hotch had his laptop open, and seemed to be typing up his report. He looked up and gave Reid another odd look. "I thought you might've fallen asleep in there. Tea's on the table."

"Thank you." Feeling awkward, Reid crossed the room. The tea at least gave him something to do until he got his legal pad and pen out and settled down to write up his own report. 

They worked in silence, Hotch typing and Reid scribbling on his pad, for typing up later. It was quite late when Reid finished, but somehow he wasn't in the mood for sleep yet. He wished he could just talk to Hotch, but here and now, he wasn't sure which frame of reference to use for their relationship. The case was over, they were technically off-duty, but the ease he and Hotch used to have was gone, since the incident, and the silence was starting to get to him. At home, he'd at least be able to put on some music, but here he thought putting on earphones would seem rude and antisocial. Instead, he stopped writing and stared at Hotch. The man was typing fast, hitting keys almost violently, hunched over the laptop and wearing a look of intense concentration. Clearly, he was still in case-mode. He just managed to look down again when Hotch glanced back up at him.

"I'm pretty much done, gonna turn in. You?" He shut down the laptop as he spoke.

"Yeah, think I'm done as well." He put his notes in order, carefully binding together neglect, abuse, isolation, violence and murder and putting them away until tomorrow. The bathroom door was open, light shining into the room as they both turned off their bedside lamps and the overhead light. 

"Night Hotch.

"Good night."

Silence reigned. It was somehow harder to relax towards sleep, even though they were in separate beds. Possibly because they were, even. Reid had to strain to hear Hotch breathing, trying to synchronize with him. He could tell Hotch was nowhere near sleep, either, and wished that they'd gotten a room with a double bed, after all. Impossible, dangerous thoughts, to be pushed away and ignored; necessity had pushed them together, but now, with that necessity gone, sharing a bed was unthinkable, as much as they'd both enjoyed it. Reid knew he couldn't really make any advances until Hotch showed he was up for that sort of thing again, which was unlikely to ever happen now, and if he wanted to keep working with the man, which he definitely did, he couldn't even fantasize about it too much. Still fully awake, he finally heard Hotch's breathing even out into a steady sleep rhythm, and drifted off as well, satisfied.

The satisfaction didn't last long, nor did the sleep. It was a slight noise that woke Reid, had him blinking in the dim light, reaching for his glasses and phone out of habit before he was really awake. When he realized the noise was coming from Hotch, the incongruity of it pulled him to full wakefulness and to his feet, across the room in a heartbeat. His boss, his- ok, friend- was lying on his back, his body rigid, his eyes moving rapidly, closed, his teeth clenched- and he was making a noise, somewhere between a moan and a whimper, that broke Reid's heart. 

A nightmare was entirely understandable, after the day they'd had, but Reid didn't think it wise to let Hotch work through it to the natural end of the dream. Hesitantly, careful, he reached out and stroked Hotch's arm, not wanting to startle him further by shaking him. Stroking up and down his arm didn't get much of a reaction, so Reid tried talking. "Hotch? Aaron, it's just a dream, wake up, it's alright, it's not real, just a dream." He wasn't sure that was true, actually- maybe Hotch was reliving something that had really happened, after all- so he changed tacks. "You're safe and in Alaska, Hotch, it's a dream, just wake up and it'll be over."

Something must've gotten through, because Hotch grabbed his wrist in a vice-grip and pulled, hard. Reid was pretty sure he was still asleep as he overbalanced, surprised by the sudden pull, and fell on top of Hotch. Still asleep or not, Hotch held him down, wrapping both arms around him, muttering into his hair. Reid caught Haley's name, Foyet, Jack and his own name as well, combined with the occasional 'no' and 'don't'. He wriggled for enough room to hug Hotch back, figuring he needed the comfort right now, and kept up the flow of reassuring words, promising that Jack was safe, Hotch was safe, Foyet was dead and it would all be okay, if only Hotch woke up.

Slowly, it seemed to be working. The grip holding Reid down eased a little, and he could breathe again, and while Hotch was still restless, he wasn't as consumed by the dream as before. And then one of his hands slid down and settled comfortably on Reid's ass. The shock of it was enough to make Reid jerk back hard and gasp, and try unsuccessfully to pull away. His sharp movement was almost enough to wake Hotch, but not quite. If this went any further, Reid knew that Hotch would feel guilty later, and neither one of them needed any further awkwardness. His own nervousness and the unwelcome spike of arousal he felt at Hotch's touch made his voice sharper than he'd intended. 

"Aaron! _Wake up_!"

That did the trick, at least, though again not in a way Reid had expected. Hotch woke with a wordless shout, and his arms tightened around Reid again. "Haley?"

His voice was so small, so shattered and uncertain, that Reid had to swallow twice before he could reply. "No…I'm sorry, Hotch, I'm- I'm not- she's not- not here. She's gone." He couldn't outright say it, he discovered, forced to use euphemisms, to somehow try to soften the blow. Was this how it was every day for Hotch, he wondered, being reminded over and over that Haley was dead? Reid never needed to be reminded that people were gone and were never coming back- he'd never seen that particular side of his memory as a blessing before. "I'm so sorry." There was nothing else he could say. The hold on him loosened, in fact he was almost pushed away as Hotch turned from him, curling into himself with violent force, with another muffled sound that Reid had never heard from his boss, his friend; pure, visceral pain.

Reid found himself at a bit of a loss, then. He wasn't very good at calming and comforting, unless one counted psychotic killers or his mother, both of which experiences did not give him any tools to deal with a grieving man. The thought flashed through his mind in far less time than it takes to describe, though, and he floundered for only a heartbeat before instinct and intuition took over. Hotch needed…something, or someone, and what Reid could do about that, he would do. He moved closer in towards Hotch and stroked his back carefully, feeling muscles trembling under his hand. "Shh…Hey, come here." He whispered, tugging gently on Hotch's shoulder to pull him closer, hugging him, his front to Hotch's back until the older man turned around and buried his face in Reid's shoulder. 

Reid kept up a constant stream of nothing important, not quite nonsense but nothing relevant to the situation (it was only later that he'd realized he was reciting the FBI field agent handbook). It was meaningless noise, meant to provide some cover for the deep, painful-sounding sobs muffled by his t-shirt. He wasn't even trying to calm Hotch down as much as to anchor him and allow him to fall apart in relative safety. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was freaking out, sure, but that took a far second place to the fact that this needed to be done, and nobody else would do it.

He had one hand on Hotch's back, steady, and his other stroking his head carefully, fingers carding through his hair, soothing as best he could. He didn't say anything when the sobs finally tapered off into shuddery breathing, then evened out entirely, only kept up the steady stroking motion. He kept expecting Hotch to pull away, to close himself off again, and was a little surprised when that didn't happen. When Hotch's breathing steadied and the weight against him became slack and heavy, Reid realized Hotch had fallen asleep again, still holding on to him for dear life.

He'd probably wake up feeling like crap, Reid thought, and if they'd been awkward with each other before, it would be much worse now, but he hadn't the heart to wake him up. With a heavy sigh and an internal shrug, he shifted carefully to find a more comfortable position, and closed his eyes. He could feel Hotch's heartbeat against his own, still a little fast, but enough to lull him to sleep. Hopefully the morning wouldn't be too terrible.

***

In fact, it wasn't even morning yet when they both woke up. Hotch first became aware of a pounding headache, a sore and dry throat, and a warm body wrapped around him. He blinked, noting also that it was still dark, and that his eyes felt gritty and irritated. When he moved the arms around him tightened, then let go, indicating that Reid had woken up as well. 

"Go back to sleep." Came the whisper, very close to his ear. Hotch frowned, gathering himself and collecting his own awareness of his surroundings and the night's events. He freed himself from Reid's embrace, possibly a little more abruptly than was polite, and got to his feet, steadying himself with one hand on the wall when the room tilted wildly around him. He padded to the bathroom, feeling chilled and shaky, and drank two glasses of water before he dared to look in the mirror. 

As expected, he looked like hell, red-eyed and exhausted and even older than he felt. With a stifled curse, he splashed some water on his face and drank another glass of it, wishing for something stronger.

He considered hiding out in the bathroom 'til morning, but reminded himself sternly that he was an adult, an FBI agent and a rational person, and so he returned back into the room with only a little lingering dread. Reid was stilling cross-legged on his own bed, watching him steadily. Somehow, the fact that he'd moved back to where both their personal spaces were clearly defined and separated made Hotch's inside twist with a sharp feeling of loss. He stopped, one hand on the wall, feeling adrift, lost. What the hell could he say, in this situation? He figured his expression gave away some of that, because Reid spoke first.

"If you'd like to talk, we can talk. If you don't want to talk, that's okay too, we won't talk. You can sleep or not, alone or with me, it's entirely your choice and I'd be alright with whatever choice you make." He said quietly, and then added, "I'd be happier if you do talk and don't shut yourself away, but I'd totally understand if you'd rather just pretend tonight never happened, and never mention it again."

Hotch thought that he'd like nothing better than to forget tonight, the case, the entire horrible year, but he knew that sort of denial wouldn't get him far. He couldn't afford to deny, when things were bound to resurface eventually- as evidenced by this latest incident. Feeling far more helpless than he liked, he took the few steps to his bed and sat down on it. "I don't know what I want to do."

Reid grimaced. "Okay." He looked at his watch. "We have a few hours yet before morning. Do you think you could get back to sleep? If you can, maybe we'd better."

"I don't think I could." Not after that nightmare. "Think there's anywhere around here that's open at this hour and makes coffee?"

"There isn't, I looked at listings around the hotel." Just the sort of thing Reid would do, and Hotch couldn't help a small, bittersweet smile. "We could make tea?"

There was tea, and the room had a miniature electric kettle, but…"Nah." He didn't actually want anything to drink. Maybe alcohol, but that wasn't the best idea, either, probably. Something flew at him and he caught it automatically- a mini-bar bottle of scotch. "Where did you get that?" The hotel room didn't feature a mini-bar, and Reid didn't drink.

"Picked it out of Rossi's pocket at dinner." Reid shrugged without a trace of guilt. "Figured we might need it more, I'll buy him a new one later."

"Maybe we do need it more." Hotch twisted the cap open and the smell drifted up to him, turning his stomach with sour terror. He quickly twisted it closed again. "Maybe we don't." He let the bottle drop to the floor. "I- I don't really drink scotch anymore. I was- I had a drink in my hand when Foyet-"

"Oh." Reid's face was unreadable. "Sorry, I hoped it might help." Then he yawned. "Sorry."

"You should get back to sleep. At least one of us should be functional tomorrow." Damn, and now he felt even worse. Reid didn't deserve to have all of Hotch's issues dumped on him like this. Then he yawned as well, and made a face. "Contagious."

"Maybe we should both try to sleep." Reid suggested. "Until you figure out what you want to do. I- uh- I assume you don't want to talk about the dream?"

"No, definitely not that." At least he was sure about what he _didn't_ want. "I want to be able to sleep." Hotch admitted irritably. He felt confused, too tired and unsettled for clear thought, helpless- like whatever choice he made, whichever path he chose, would be the wrong one, somehow. Whatever his choice, it would end badly. "I just want something to end well." Saying it was hard, even after everything that had already happened between them. But he pushed ahead. "I want to stop second-guessing every thought. I'd settle for sleeping through the night." He was so damn tired. Reid nodded, but said nothing for a few moments, allowing the words to sink in, letting Hotch get used to verbalizing and expressing his needs.

"You deserve something good. We all do. And you definitely deserve a full night’s sleep, even though that's off the menu tonight, seeing as 'full' is no longer possible." Once he was sure Hotch was done, Reid’s reply came out too fast, stumbling over the words, and he caught himself as Hotch found some energy to be amused by it. Reid seemed to brace himself before adding, hesitant, "You seemed to sleep better when we shared."

"I guess I did." Hotch sighed. "I'm not sure…There are rules, Reid."

"I know there are. I can recite them for you if you like.” In fact, he’d done just that earlier. “That we're technically off-duty doesn't change the facts. However, I'm sure we can share a bed as friends, and as mutual oversized stuffed toys, for pure, non-sexual comfort, and no eyebrows will be raised. What nobody knows about can't hurt us." He sounded so sure about that, factual, confident, matter of fact. It was reassuring, that one of them was sure of himself. "Physical comfort is a proven remedy for any number of things. There's research."

"I'm sure there is." Hotch replied drily. "There are also lines we can't cross. Some that we already have." Oh, that was a bad thing to bring up, to think about. Months of nothing, and now, remembering their few brief, experimental kisses, Hotch found his body very interested suddenly.

"I know." Reid nodded, "And while I'd be happy to cross them with you, if you don't want to, then we'd both best exercise control. Of course, I also think that certain regulations can be disregarded, in certain circumstances. If the past three years haven't affected our working relationship, I don't think further intimacy will do it, either." He blushed a little in the dim light, but still seemed very sure of himself. Hotch was far less sure; he'd seen intra-team liaisons which had ended badly and broke teams apart. The rules were there for a reason, no matter how mature and calm Reid thought he was about this now. Still…

"It sounds incredibly clinical, put like that." Which made it easier to deal with, but wasn't at all romantic- not that Hotch felt himself capable of being romantic, then and there. "Let's start by trying to sleep, nothing more complicated, ok? I'm coming over to yours." Hotch stated, and moved before his better sense had time to change his mind. Reid moved over, making room for him and touching his arm lightly, and Hotch shivered. "Alaska." He said by way of an excuse, and Reid nodded and lay down, drawing Hotch with him slowly. 

They fit together comfortably, arms fitting around shoulders, resting easily against backs, legs intertwining without awkwardness. Strange, Hotch thought again, how right and normal it all felt. It calmed him, and while the flat, hard lines were strange to him, different from a woman, the difference was interesting rather than off-putting. Reid's hand burrowed under the hem of his shirt to rest, skin on skin, against his flank. Made bold by this, Hotch slid a hand down to rest of Reid's lower back, his fingers just brushing the curve of his ass. Reid made a pleased sort of hum, and buried his face in the crook of Hotch's shoulder, his breath tickling Hotch's neck. "I may fall asleep being this goes anywhere." Hotch muttered.

"That's okay." Reid whispered back. "We don't need to do anything more."

"I sort of want to." And Hotch found it was true- in this room, thousands of miles from home and office, was possibly the least inhibited he would ever be. No better time to take that leap across red lines and do something potentially stupid. "I want to feel- just, feel something positive for a change. Something good."

"Oh." Reid pulled away slightly, raising himself on one arm. "Well, we can do that, too." Hotch could feel him smiling- more so when Reid leaned down again and kissed him.

Tired and wrung out as Hotch was, the kiss was harder, more passionate somehow, than their previous hesitant attempts. They both allowed themselves more- more tongue, more teeth, more exploration, more heat. It was longer, too; they paused for breath only to dive back in, teeth grazing, learning each other. Somewhere in the back of Hotch's mind, he was cataloguing differences, bringing up the long-ago memories of other men he'd kissed, a lifetime ago. He didn't compare Reid and Haley; apples and oranges, and not two people he wanted to think of in the same space of thought. Hotch wasn't even conscious of his hands moving, but suddenly there was bare skin under his fingers, and hands skimming over his own body, intimate and leaving trails of heat in their wake. And he was responding, for the first time in many months, feeling his body leaning into the touch. He was also responding in other, more obvious ways- as was Reid, it seemed. Hotch pulled away sharply, startled by the reaction under the haze of arousal, feeling his pulse racing. "Wait."

"We can stop." Reid's eyes were wide in the dark, his lips redder than usual, wet- it was damn hot, almost enough to make Hotch throw caution to the wind and commit the whole way, but he didn't.

"I don't want to stop. Really, this is good." He knew better than to use 'fine', even now. Especially now. "I just…Need a moment."

"We have all night." Reid nodded. He let go of Hotch and put some space between them, not crowding, but it left Hotch oddly bereft. "Don't rush it."

"Yeah." His body wanted to rush it, and to hell with the consequences and the memories, but his mind, still more or less in control, objected. "I should warn you that I haven't- that is- I haven't been with anybody in a long time. And even on my own, not since-" He choked, embarrassed and awkward. Reid, his eyes soft and full of some emotion Hotch couldn't name, kissed his cheek before pulling back.

"Then I'm honored, Aaron, that you're willing to go there with me. But if it's too soon, or you're not sure, we don't have to." His arms went back around Hotch, warm and secure. Throughout all this, Hotch's physical interest didn't show any sign of flagging, so he assumed his body and subconscious mind were still on board with it, and bucking his hips forward, rubbing against Reid's thigh and causing them both to draw in a sharp breath.

"I want to. I really, really want to. Before I overthink it. Please."

"No need to ask twice. God, I'm glad you don't want to stop." Reid grinned and kissed him again. "May I touch you?"

Hotch almost pointed out that Reid was touching him already before he realized what Reid meant. A terrifying, oh-so-tempting thought. "Yeah. Please, yes." Yet another thing that hadn't happened in decades, and Hotch didn't let himself think of how old this made him. Reid kept him distracted with tiny kisses all over his face and one hand on his back, grounding him as the other hand reached down into his shorts, stroking lightly at first, then more forcefully, pushing fabric out of the way to free his erection entirely. Warm fingers closed around him, and Hotch felt a moan rising in the back of his throat and clamped his teeth on it, releasing only a muffled groan.

"Shh… We don't know how thin the walls are." Reid chuckled quietly. "Aaron, I've wanted to do this for so long…" He stroked up, then down, slicked by sweat and- after a swipe of his thumb across the head of Hotch's dick which made him see stars- precum. On instinct, Hotch reached a hand down under Reid's waistband and his fingers closed convulsively around the hot, hard shaft. Reid winced slightly. "Too hard." 

"Oops. Sorry." Hotch loosened his grip a little, and studied the skin beneath his fingers, so like his own but very different all the same, learning how the weight of it felt in his hand. "Better?"

"Perfect." Reid's hand twisted around his dick, up and down, fingers sneaking down to his balls at the roots, making him shudder as pleasure exploded up his spine. "Ok?"

"Yeah." Hotch gasped. "Not gonna last long-" No sooner did he say it, and a slight tightening and another touch of Reid's hand sent him flying over the edge into freefall, showers of sparks shooting behind his eyelids, and he bit into Reid's shoulder, fortunately protected by a shirt, to stifle a shout. Wet heat flooded between them, Hotch's breath coming in short, harsh gasps as Reid thrust into his hands a few times and gasped quietly as further warmth spread between them, his release a lot quieter than Hotch's. His hands came up again, holding Hotch close when he would've turned away. It took them both several minutes to get back to where speech was a viable option. Not surprisingly, Reid spoke first.

"Promise me you won't freak out too badly in the morning?"

Hotch almost protested that he never 'freaked out', but given the past few hours that was patently untrue, so he didn't bother. Instead, he sighed. "I promise I'll try?" He chuckled as well, half relieved, half edging towards hysteria. "Uh. Wow. This was- it was okay, right?"

"I like it when your brain shorts out." More relaxed now that it seemed no explosion was imminent, Reid bit Hotch's earlobe lightly. "I think it was great. For a first time, definitely good. I mean, the outcome was…satisfying, right?"

"It was pretty good, yeah." Better than just pretty good, even. Hotch felt pleasantly relaxed and glowy. "Yeah. Good." He smiled, for what felt like the first time in months, and Reid's returned grin was incandescent. "If I don't freak out in the morning, I think I'd like to try this again sometime."

"I'd like that too." Reid moved, then frowned and looked down. "We should clean up and probably move to the other bed. Profilers."

The thought of everybody looking at them and knowing was almost enough to destroy the pleasant relaxation Hotch was feeling. "We should clean up, regardless." Things were already getting sticky and clammy between them.

"We should. And we shouldn't worry too much about the others, either. If Morgan still thinks I've a virgin after years of us working together, than I'm pretty good at camouflage. And nobody'll speculate about you."

Hotch knew that was a lie; they all speculated, as much as they tried not to, it was just human nature. He refused to think about it, though. "I don't want to move." He was warm and floating and the rest of the room seemed very cold and uninviting by comparison.

"Me neither, but it'll be very awkward if we're stuck together in the morning." Reid sounded amused. "You know what, you stay here. I'll be right back." And before Hotch could protest, he was away and moving across the room. Left alone, Hotch rolled out of bed as well, groaning quietly. He felt a little unsteady still, as he dug through his go-bag for a change of clothes. He shucked his sticky, messy clothes without thinking about it, and froze when Reid came back into the room, stilled and squeaked in surprise. Both of them flushed and Reid spun around. "Sorry- sorry."

Hotch swallowed hard and looked down at the scars on his chest and abdomen, scars he'd never shown anyone except the doctors. "I think, given what we've just done, you're allowed to look." His voice was steadier than he'd expected it to be.

"You're sure? If you'd rather keep that private…" Reid raised his hand, holding a damp washcloth. "If I throw this, could you catch?"

"Yes. To both those questions." It felt alright, Reid had touched the scars earlier, after all, sometime during the lust-haze. He could look at them now. There wasn't much light, anyway. Reid tossed him the washcloth, and by the time Hotch caught it, the younger man was facing him- and peeling off his own shorts. Now it was Hotch's turn to make suspicious noises. He'd seen Reid partially dressed before, of course, but never like this. Never with the leisure- and more importantly, the permission- to enjoy it. It was…"Gorgeous." Unexpected, the word surfaced and Reid blushed.

"Please, don't." He drank Hotch in with his eyes, appreciation clear in his face. "I could say the same."

"You could, but you'd be lying." Having cleaned up, Hotch pulled clean underwear on, ignoring Reid's disappointed look.

"You didn't know you're right behind Morgan on the 'BAU's Finest' list?" Reid winked and got dressed as well, while Hotch snorted. "Really, you are. How's the bed?"

Hotch felt the sheets. "Fine, I think, if we put the sheet down."

They did, and shortly after they were curled up together again. The idea of separate beds didn't even come up.

"We have a few more hours." Two or three, at most. "Think you can sleep now?" 

"Yeah, pretty sure I can." Hotch felt the fatigue in his bones now, and the tension had drained out of him, leaving sleep tugging at his mind. "As long as you don't distract me, anyway."

"You're safe, don't worry. I'm not up for another round anyway." Reid snuggled down lower and laid his head on Hotch's chest. He tilted his face up. "Okay?"

Hotch dropped a kiss on his hair. "Perfect."

***

The long, emotionally exhausting night was the only excuse they had, later; both Hotch and Reid swore later that nothing like that had happened to them in years, but the facts were clear and evident- they slept right through the alarm in the morning. Fortunately- or unfortunately- Rossi and JJ had the master key cards to everyone's rooms. Still, Reid thought blearily, there were nicer things to wake up to than Rossi's face. One of those things was wrapped around him, and also waking up.

"Sorry to wake you, sleeping beauties." Rossi's eyebrows were both raised, "But your alarm's been ringing every three minutes for the past fifteen, driving us all insane. Mainly me, being in the next room over." He smirked. "Rough night?"

"My answer depends entirely on how thin the walls are." Reid reached for his glasses. He knew Hotch was awake, but the older man had ducked entirely under the covers as soon as he heard Rossi, and was pretending with all his might to be asleep, leaving Reid to deal with this. "What time is it?" He sat up and put his glasses on.

"Half past seven. Wheels up at nine, so you two better get a move on." Rossi gave Reid a piercing look, which Reid met calmly. It was embarrassing, sure, but he trusted Rossi to be discreet, and they were both dressed under the covers, although their position was a fairly compromising one. "You're just lucky I offered to wake you up before JJ did."

"Guess we are." Reid nodded. "Sorry if we woke you, it actually was a pretty rough night."

"Sounded like it." Rossi nodded as well, and Reid felt Hotch tense against him. He absent mindedly rested a hand on him over the blanket. "I'll let the two of you get set for leaving?" The older man suggested tactfully.

"Good idea." It was clear to both of them that Hotch wouldn't move until Rossi was gone. "Thanks, Rossi. Tell the others we'll be right down."

"You'd better be." Safely out of Hotch's sight, Rossi gave Reid a single, approving nod that held a world of meaning, and made him smile quickly. "See you at breakfast." With that, he was gone.

Reid counted to ten after the door closed. "Safe to come out now, I think."

"I'd rather stay here and not see anybody ever again." Hotch sounded grumpy, and a little freaked out.

"You realize staying here will draw more attention that leaving, right? Reid half-smiled and got a hand under the covers to stroke Hotch's hair. "Come on, we don't want to be stuck in Alaska, do we? Jack's waiting for you at home." Mentioning Jack was a gamble, as it might've just increased Hotch's distress, but it worked, and Hotch scrambled out of bed.

"I really need to call him, tell him we'll be home today. I'm not freaking out." He added, catching Reid's expression. "Not about us. About Rossi, maybe, a little. He already knew most of it, anyway."

"He did? Well, he didn't look like he minded, although it's possible he was in denial…" Anything was possible. As Reid didn't see any indication that Hotch was about to retreat into himself or lash out in reaction, he went about his morning business as usual, brushing his teeth and getting dressed. By the time he finished, Hotch was done with his phone call and looking a little lost. He crossed the room and sat down next to him on the bed. "We should go down and eat something before we take off."

"Yeah." Hotch nodded, but didn't move. Reid wasn't sure how much physical contact would be welcome right now, if at all, and decided to venture one hand on Hotch's arm.

"Look. We can just finish packing and go home, and talk about this tomorrow or the day after or in a week." Maybe this once was all they would get- maybe something casual, no strings attached would be best for them. It didn't have to be complicated. Then again, with him and Hotch, maybe it couldn't be anything but complicated.

Hotch pulled his arm away, not abruptly but clearly defining the line between them now. "We'll talk about it." He agreed. "Not right now, though. I have a feeling it might be a long conversation, and the others-"

"Yeah." The team was like a shadow over the room, heavy with implications and consequences, duty and responsibility and rules. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you should get dressed and we should get going."

"I should, and we should." Hotch sighed and gave Reid a rueful, resigned look. "How bad do I look?"

"Uh, biased opinion here. Sorry." Reid shrugged, smiling wickedly. His smile widened when pink flooded Hotch's face. "Really, though, you look okay, but you should clean up a bit." He did show the signs of a mostly sleepless night, but not beyond what they'd gotten used to seeing, since Haley was killed. "I've told you people reach the most plausible conclusion, regardless of other evidence- they'll go with lack of sleep, not…anything else."

"I hope you're right." Hotch stood up. "Reid- Spencer-" Clearly defining again, both the situation and the parts they played now. "- I need to think, alright? It might take a day. Or a weekend. I need to process this, and I don't want people to speculate on things before I'm clearer on what _this_ is and where I want it to go."

"Fair enough." That was to be expected, but Reid wanted to make a few points of his own, before any 'processing' started. "Take as long as you need, but remember that I'm part of this as well, Aaron, and that how this goes isn't entirely up to you alone. If you don't let me in and let me know what you're thinking, your final conclusion may ignore an important variable- me- and you'll be forced to start the process over. You know the saying, it takes two to tango." For once, Reid didn't feel like expounding on the subject of solo ballroom dancing, where it could in fact only take one to tango. Maybe when he was feeling less precarious in this new and unstable twist in their relationship; Hotch didn't need to think about the possibility of tangoing alone right now. "In other words, out of the office your word may not be the final word."

Hotch was silent for a moment, and Reid's heart dropped, certain he was sabotaging himself by making demands. However, setting things out as he intended them to continue was important, and would save them both a lot of trouble in the future- he hoped. Relationships were difficult enough when they weren't with a co-worker. He kept his expression neutral but firm, waiting for Hotch to react. Finally, the older man nodded and Reid let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"You're right. I need to do some thinking on my own, but of course we'll need to agree on things." He tried to smile, it looked like, but failed. "I may not be very experienced in starting new relationships, but I do know it's not just my call. I just…need to figure out what I want, so I can let you know, and then we'll see…I hope what I want works with what you want." The faint shadow of a smile flitted across his face. "For now I want to kiss you again. Can we?"

Reid grinned. "We definitely can. But not much more than that, we really do need to go."

They caught coffee and pastries on the run, and even so were late enough that everyone looked at them funny as they finally got on the jet.

***

During the flight back they barely looked at each other. Reid immediately curled up to sleep, despite the early hour, and Hotch felt a twinge of guilt at having kept him awake most of the night. Despite suffering the same sleep deprivation, he was too wired to try and sleep, too filled with nervous energy and wide awake. He finished writing up his case report instead, pointedly ignoring Rossi when the older man sat across from him, and was done by the time they landed. This allowed him to bid the others goodbye when they reached headquarters, wish everyone a good weekend and head straight home. He picked Jack up from school, made lunch, and for a few hours allowed himself not to think about anything that might put his lifestyle, job or emotions at risk. He did text Reid to let him know that he was taking the weekend and they'd talk Sunday evening, and got a text back agreeing with this plan. He had the weekend- now, what would he do with it?

For a start, he didn't think about it for as long as he could. They'd been away five days: he had laundry to do, dry-cleaning to drop off, a son to spend time with, and they were pretty much out of food, besides. All of this kept him busy until Friday night. By the time Jack fell asleep, the shopping was done, laundry was in the dryer, and all Hotch wanted to do was crawl into bed. He was exhausted, still sleep deprived from the case.

And when he finally got into bed, he couldn't sleep.

For hours, he tossed and turned in a bed that felt too large and empty, his mind aching for sleep but his body restless, missing something. This wasn't the bed he'd shared with Haley; that one had too many memories long after they'd stopped sharing it. And now this new, already-familiar bed wasn't enough, it seemed. Finally, feeling like an idiot, Hotch grabbed a spare pillow and hugged it to his chest. It was a placeholder, not warm or breathing, but it was enough to let him sleep. When he woke, still clutching the pillow, he found text messages on his phone- from Dave, which he expected, and from Emily, which was less expected and slightly unnerving, because how would she know? Both let him know that they were available if he wanted to talk. 

Did he want to talk? What could there be to talk about? He was contemplating breaking several Bureau regulations, was it fair to make his friends and colleagues his accessories in this? Hotch knew it wasn’t, but by Saturday evening he was no closer to knowing what he wanted to do. Maybe a second opinion _would_ help. With a silent apology towards Emily and her good intentions, he deleted her text and called Dave.

“Took you long enough.” As he sometimes did, Rossi skipped the usual pleasantries.

“I wanted to think about it on my own first.” Hotch sounded waspish to his own ears, but he was stressed and confused and off duty, so he didn’t do much to curb it.

“I’m guessing that’s not working out so well so far?”

“Not as well as I’d like,” Hotch admitted. “I need to put Jack to bed, you wanna come over for a beer in a couple of hours?”

“They’d better be cold by the time I get there,” Rossi’s tone was much more amused than Hotch thought the situation merited, “and they’d better be good beers, because I have a feeling I’m about to be emotionally scarred, here.”

“If you don’t want to hear about it, I understand entirely.” Hotch couldn’t see the humor in this. “I can probably work it out on my own, but- it’s not a joke, Dave. This is important.” 

“I know it is, Aaron.” The amusement was gone from Rossi’s voice. “And I doubt you can work it out on your own. It’s okay, this is what friends are for, after all. I’ll live.” There was a pause, “Just don’t tell me what happened the other night at the hotel.”

“That wasn’t going to happen even if you’d asked.” Hotch felt his ears heat up, and had to clear his throat to speak. “Nothing happened.”

“Something happened, I just don’t want to know the details. Nine okay?”

“Should be, yeah.” Jack was usually asleep by then, even on weekends. 

“Alright, I’ll see you.”

“Thanks, Dave.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Emily might’ve been the better choice.”

“Are you two coordinating? How the hell does she know, anyway?” this was beyond embarrassing. 

“She doesn’t know details, but she reads both you and Reid pretty well, and I think Reid refused her offer of a listening ear, so she moved on to you. You both had a certain glow about you yesterday morning, you’re just lucky Morgan’s mind doesn’t go there when it comes to the two of you, and JJ kept Garcia from asking uncomfortable questions.”

Now Hotch’s entire face was burning. “There’s nothing even going on for them to notice,” he protested as mildly as he could. Ross snorted.

“Right, Aaron. Nothing going on. I’ll see you later.” 

Hotch was left holding a dead phone, feeling like an idiot. With a sigh, he went to make sure there was beer in the fridge. 

A couple of hours later, with Jack safely in bed, Hotch and Rossi sat down in Hotch’s living room, each armed with a bottle of beer. 

“So,” Rossi started, “Let’s stop beating around the bush. You’re thinking about starting a relationship with Reid. Genius, younger, male and technically your subordinate. Accurate so far?”

“Brutally so.” Hearing it listed out was like a kick in the stomach, really. “Except that we had a relationship already, professionally and as friends, sort of. Or we used to. We were getting somewhere again, getting over- what happened last fall- and things just happened, you know?”

“I don’t know, but I can guess.” Rossi replied drily. “I did walk in on a rather obvious situation. The question is what do you want to do, and what does he want to do.” 

“I don’t know. To both those questions, I don’t know. I mean, I think Reid would like to have something more serious. More- an actual relationship. Even a casual one. But he wants something real, and I think he’s a lot less conflicted about it that I am.” For obvious, understandable reasons- Reid wasn’t still recovering from a traumatic end to a long marriage, nor did he have the complications of being the senior agent in charge. “He’s trying very hard not to pressure me or freak me out, though. I’m taking care of most of that on my own. I’m…” Helpless. Confused. Not in control. All things he hated to be. He wasn’t used to being so at a loss about something. “It’s complicated.”

“Relationships are that. For most people, so don’t go feeling special.” Rossi agreed without sarcasm. “After three wives, I know _I_ haven’t figured it out yet. You’ve been with exactly one person in all the time I’ve known you, Aaron, and dating isn’t easy. Even without the additional complications, this wouldn’t be simple.”

“You’re not helping.” He was feeling insecure enough about this without the confirmation from Rossi that it was _supposed_ to be hard. “There are too many potential negative consequences. I don’t-” Hotch sighed and it felt like the sigh came from the bottom of his soul. “Is it fair? To the team, to Jack, to my job?”

“Sounds to me like you already know what you want, buddy. Now you’re just looking for excuses and reasons why you can’t, shouldn’t and won’t get what you want. Is that fair to yourself? To Reid?”

Was he really looking for excuses? Hotch closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping to ward off a headache. “What if I’m terrible at being in a relationship? I wasn’t that good as a husband, what if I screw this up? What if it adds to Jack’s trauma? It could destroy both our careers. What if-”

“What if it makes you happy? Is that a risk you’re will to take?” Rossi cut him off and it stopped him cold. There was silence for several slow heartbeats.

“What if it makes me happy, and then it ends?” His voice was rougher, softer than he’d intended. “I’m- Dave, I’m only just starting to bring my life back around to something stable. I’m still getting used to being a single parent. I don’t want to add something to the pile that might unbalance it. I don’t know that I have the - the space for it, in my life, in my mind. Maybe in this case it’s better not to try, and not to risk failing.” Failure would unbalance everything, would affect their work, definitely. “Am I even making sense?” Hotch didn’t look at Rossi, sure that the expression on his friend’s face would be disgusted, disappointed by his cowardice. He was a coward, but…”If I start something with Spencer and it ends badly, I won’t just lose a relationship. I’ll end up hurting both of us, and Jack as well; I’ll lose member of my team, I might lose my job. I’ve lost too much already.” He shook his head, feeling defeated.

“I understand.” The words were said so quietly that Hotch jerked his head up, sure he hadn’t heard right. There was no disgust in the tone or in Rossi’s expression, no derision or disappointment. The older man looked serious, but supportive. “I think it sounds like you know what you want, and know what you think you need, and those are two different things."

"What I _think_ I need?" Hotch asked, frowning.

"I'm not judging, but it's a subjective decision. Sometimes your own fears get in the way of what you really want and need- and sometimes they're legitimate concerns that are there to protect you. Sometimes they're both. And in this case it's up to you to decide and manage your own risks." Rossi shrugged and sipped his beer. "I'm just the sounding board."

"And I appreciate that." Hotch considered this and released a long breath. "I don't know if I can do casual again. It's been twenty years since my last no-strings-attached relationship- if you can even call it that- and that one wasn't with a colleague."

"A subordinate." Rossi corrected and Hotch grimaced.

"I wish you wouldn't keep saying that. It only complicates things even more."

"You'll have to be discreet. Very discreet." The older man agreed. "I don't think it'll interfere with your judgment, it hasn't so far, but I'm not sure the higher-ups will see it the same way."

"I'm sure they won't. It could cost both our careers." Reputations, jobs, futures, all of it. "That's the main reason why we shouldn't." That and the fact that he just wasn't ready yet. But if he wasn't ready, why was sleeping in an empty bed so hard again? "I honestly don't know what to do, Dave."

"Yes, so you've said." Rossi nodded. "And like I said, I'm just the sounding board. The decision is yours- and Reid's. Have you discussed it with him? When you weren't both on the clock, I mean."

"Not really." Hotch was squirming uncomfortably inside, but tried to maintain some kind of calm. "I should, shouldn't I?"

"I'd advise it, yeah. You're not flying solo in this, remember."

"I do remember. That's what makes this harder." Because he couldn't only consider himself, and he barely knew his own mind. Hotch finished his beer and set the bottle on the table. "I'll talk to him tomorrow."

"Good. You two need to work things out, one way or another, before this starts affecting your work." Rossi put his empty bottle down as well. "Not that I've seen anything like that yet, but...well, you've taken it that extra step, I'm guessing- and don't tell me details-" He held up a preemptive hand.

"I wasn't going to." Hotch replied sourly, color rising in his face again. That part was none of Rossi's business. 

"Good. But that changes things. Best decide where you're going before you head in different directions and things get complicated."

"Yeah. I really don't want complicated." Hotch leaned his head back and looked at the ceiling. It was already too complicated. "I'll talk to him tomorrow." He repeated, with greater resolve.

"Good. Then I think you're set for the night." Rossi started to rise, gave Hotch a questioning look, and stood up fully at his nod. "And I'll head home, then."

"Yeah. Thanks, Dave. I really appreciate this." Hotch rose as well, feeling awkward as hell. "Sorry you have to deal with my sudden mid-life adolescence." 

"Hell, I'm guessing you didn't get to go through most of this when you were younger." Rossi shrugged. "At least you're catching up to your age group at last. Also, nobody ever gets good at the relationship thing, I told you. It's always a risk, but sometimes it's worth it." 

From a man of Rossi's experience, Hotch had to accept that. He nodded, and saw his friend out, then collapsed on the couch again. 

It wasn't exactly that he'd never gone through some doubts about a relationship. But he'd never had these doubts as an adult, with a career and a child on the line as well as his own heart. This, if he went for it, would be very different from any of his past relationships, few as those had been. It would take a leap of faith - did he have that faith? He wasn't sure.

He went to bed still unsure of what he really wanted, and what he could actually accomplish, of the things he wanted. It took him forever to fall asleep, again, but it wasn't as bad as the previous night. He was getting used to sleeping alone again already. He realized he didn't want to get used to it, but knew he would have to, even if he and Reid became something real. 

He woke up still conflicted, and called Reid to set up a lunch meeting. Jack had a birthday party for a school friend, so Hotch was free until afternoon. Then he forced himself to do the things he needed to do around the house, just to keep his mind from spinning in circles. By the time he left the house to the nice, out of the way bistro they'd settled on, Hotch thought he was perfectly calm and composed and sure of himself.

He maintained this internal illusion until Reid sat down across from him and apologized for being three minutes late. Then it was right back to awkward and uncertain. "Hey."

"Hey." Reid waved with a little smile. "Everything alright?" He gave Hotch a searching look, and Hotch knew he was displaying more anxiety than was normal for him. He shrugged.

"I guess I'm a little nervous. And hungry."

"You don't need to be nervous." Reid stretched a hand across the table, not touching Hotch but close enough that Hotch could choose to complete the motion and meet him halfway, but withdrew it after a moment when Hotch didn’t. That was enough unlike him that Hotch could tell he too was more nervous that he seemed, and somehow that made Hotch feel a bit better. "We could just eat first, and get to the serious stuff later? I mean, I'm assuming this is about serious stuff, and not just lunch."

"Hey, it's the closest we've had to an actual date. If this wasn't lunch on a Sunday I'd have worn a tie." Hotch riposted, surprising himself with unexpected humor. 

"You not wearing a tie is actually making this more special. We wear ties every day." Reid eyed Hotch's ensemble of jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt with undisguised appreciation, and Hotch blushed slightly and cleared his throat. 

"Fair point. So, we can eat first." 

They ordered food and sat more or less in silence until it arrived, although it wasn't quite an awkward silence- not entirely. Neither one of them was comfortable with small talk, and mutual silent agreement kept all work-related subjects off the table. Neither one of them watched much TV or got around to going to the movies much, which left more or less the weather and politics to be discussed. Silence was better. Once there was food on the table, Reid drew Hotch into a conversation about the food itself, throwing various bits of trivia at him until he was forced to engage in something that felt a lot like normal, mundane conversation- something neither one of them was used to. 

"We need more of a life outside the office, don't we?" Hotch said at last, chasing some peas around his plate.

"Yes. But we do have some sort of personal life. Sort of." Reid paused with a fork halfway to his mouth. "I have lectures sometimes, and reading. You have Jack, and your own lectures and classes." They all gave classes at the Academy if they were needed and available. "It's not much but it could be worse."

"Not a lot worse. We're too tied up with work." Hotch stood firm in his opinion. "It's nice to have something outside of work to look forward to."

"You're edging into serious business." Reid noted with a raised eyebrow. "Accident, or are we at an advanced enough point in the meal that we're unlikely to ruin it for each other if things go badly?"

"I don't think it'll get quite that bad." Hotch managed a faint smile. "But I think we can talk now, yes." They could talk and then have dessert. "I'll be honest, I don't know where we'll end up after this conversation."

"Okay." Reid looked at him intently. "Can we both agree that we enjoy our work, and whatever happens, we will do our best to function as teammates and not involve other people any more than we already have?"

"Yes, I think we can agree on that, certainly." But that was as far as he was sure. Hotch himself didn't know what he was going to say until the words were out of his mouth. "Spencer, I don't think I'm ready for a full-time, full-commitment relationship. Not yet." Reid nodded slightly, aware that there was more. "But I might be, in the future- and I'd like for that relationship to be with you. I think-" he swallowed, his mouth dry as rock, "I think we could work out. In the future." 

Reid was silent for a few minutes, and then nodded again. "Alright. I- I understand, I think. And I respect your choice." He shrugged, a ripple of barely-there motion. "I can wait. I think you're worth the wait." Realizing what he'd just said and just how much it revealed, he then flushed slightly. "Was that out loud?"

"It was." Hotch smiled, and felt his tension dissipate a bit. "And that's the nicest thing anybody's said to me in a while, other than Jack." The smile faded, thinking of Jack. “I don’t know when I’ll be ready, though.” He didn’t know whether he’d ever be ready, if he was entirely honest. “If something else comes along…”

“I won’t put my life on hold indefinitely.” Reid reassured him. “But I can wait. I’m in no hurry.” He looked, for a moment, a little wistful, and Hotch’s heart gave a sudden lurch. Maybe they could try it after all? 

But he knew they couldn’t. There was the team, all of them too observant for anybody’s good, and there was Jack, and their jobs, “I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be.” With a slight headshake, Reid signaled for the check. The best indication of his mood, Hotch thought wrily, was the fact that he didn’t ask for the dessert menu. “Let’s be honest, relationships haven’t been highest on either of our priority lists- ever, probably. You’ve nothing to be sorry for.” 

Hotch tried to believe him, but still felt bad about it all. “It’s not that I don’t want to-”

“Aaron, stop.” This time Reid reached for his hand and took it, not giving him the chance to pull away. “Stop. You don’t need to justify yourself or apologize. I get it. Really. Don’t worry about it. If at some point you’d like to try again, with me, I’d be very happy. If not, that’s alright too.” He seemed to be very sincere, and the earlier tension was gone. Still reluctant, Hotch shrugged and nodded.

“Okay.” He glanced at his watch as a distraction, and was startled by how late it was. “I have to get going, I need to pick Jack up on the other side of town. You’re okay to get home?”

“Yeah, fine. Reid looked over Hotch’s shoulder at the waitress, and pursed his lips. “She’s on the phone. Want to leave your part of the check, and go?”

“Could I?” It was a relief, both that he wouldn’t be late and that they’d be spared the awkwardness of ending the date. Reid nodded his assent, and Hotch left a 20$ note on the table. “Should cover it.”

“Yup.” No mention was made of either one of them paying for the other, and that was just fine. 

They said quick, friendly but not overly warm goodbyes. When Hotch looked over his shoulder, just before he went out into the street, Reid already had a book out, and was absent-mindedly reaching for the dessert menu after all, and waving away the check. Something tight relaxed in Hotch’s chest, and he sighed and tried to think about other things. 

They were on cold cases and consults for a week after that, and slowly, Hotch got used to sleeping alone again. He ignored Dave’s questioning looks and Emily’s pointed worry, and focused on work. Reid seemed to do the same, and nothing much changed between then. 

The next time they had to go out of town, Hotch made sure nobody needed to share rooms.

**Author's Note:**

> I told you. I'm sorry. I promise this series has three more fic planned (mid season 6, early season 7 and undetermined future), wherein all will be resolved. Since I'm trying to keep things as close to canon as I can, having them be together going into season 6 just wouldn't have worked. Plus, Hotch was very convincing about why he can't, yet.


End file.
